


Chaos and Carnage

by Anonymous



Category: Minecraft (Video Game)
Genre: Chaos, Enderman Ranboo (Video Blogging RPF), Gen, Moral Ambiguity, No shipping, Unreliable Narrator, Winged Phil Watson (Video Blogging RPF), technocentric
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2021-02-25
Updated: 2021-02-25
Packaged: 2021-03-16 15:42:44
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,775
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/29702847
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/
Summary: People liked to say that chaos was a thing that could not be predicted, as if it was as simple as that. Chaos means unpredictable to them, and so when they’re faced with real chaos, they get confused.Chaos was simply… inevitable. Chaos was the uncontrolled.
Relationships: Ranboo & Technoblade & Phil Watson (Video Blogging RPF), Technoblade & Phil Watson (Video Blogging RPF)
Comments: 5
Kudos: 82
Collections: Anonymous





	Chaos and Carnage

People liked to say that chaos was a thing that could not be predicted, as if it was as simple as that. Chaos means unpredictable to them, and so when they’re faced with real chaos, they get confused. 

Chaos was simply… inevitable. Chaos was the uncontrolled. 

People liked to say that the storms on the sea were chaos, destructive, deadly, powerful, unpredictable. The storms were simply a facet of chaos. People didn’t notice that the calm waves on the beach were also chaos, that each steady, predictable lap of the water was chaos, that each motion was inevitable, unstoppable, deceptive in its quiet. The quiet waves still ate at the world, could still pull you under and drown you for no other reason than that was what water was. You could not control the waves, and that is what made it chaotic.

Philza was Chaos incarnate, and people never seemed to see it. 

Maybe it was because Philza stood next to him. It was hard to see Chaos in it’s quiet reality when Carnage frothed beside him. 

Technoblade understood chaos. It lived in his head, thousands of voices shouting, whispering, lying, telling the truth. He could not control it, it just was. Sometimes he could direct it, asking a question, appeasing it, just as he could use his trident to direct a bolt of lightning. The lightning would strike regardless of what he did, but sometimes you could suggest a target and it would go.

Technoblade understood chaos, and he understood Philza. 

Philza was Chaos. Sure, he was somewhat unpredictable. Technoblade could not understand the man’s fascination with bringing home unwanted children, but Phil did what Phil wanted. And that was what made him Chaos. If he wanted to defeat an enderdragon, he would. If he wanted to spend years creating worlds with his bare hands, he would. If he decided a mob or person should die, he would make it so. Philza could not be controlled and it delighted Technoblade. Philza did not try to control Technoblade and that made him trust him.

(He might say ‘fond’ if it wouldn’t send Chat into delighted shrieking about ‘Technosoft’.)

Philza was not scared of him, and Techno was not scared of him. They were equals, partners. ‘Friends’ even.

He was so much older than Technoblade could really comprehend, but it worked for them. Philza was too old to be scared of Carnage. Philza understood Carnage just as well as Technoblade understood Chaos, and that understanding between them had led to years and years of companionship. They trusted each other as only those who truly understood each other could. They trusted each other because they knew the limits. Philza would not leave Technoblade alone with beings he did not want destroyed because he knew what Technoblade was, and he did not get upset when Technoblade destroyed things because that would be as silly as yelling at the wind to stop blowing. It just was.

And the same went for Phil. You didn’t shout at the waves for beating the shore, you didn’t get upset with Philza when he decided he wanted to build an entire empire or maybe raze years of effort to the ground for no other reason than he felt like it should be done. The two of them just Were.

People didn’t understand that. 

People had expectations of Philza.

They thought because he was old that he was wise.

They thought because he created beautiful things that he would abhor destruction.

They thought because he housed children he was a father.

They thought that because he had his moments of kindness that he was good.

Technoblade thought it was the curse of Chaos to be misunderstood. No-one misunderstood Carnage. Well, except for one of the silly children who had decided Philza was Dadza. That child, a loud, gangly thing that reeked of Chaos but did not understand what he was, that child thought that Carnage was able to be bound. That Carnage was Noble. That Carnage was Heroic. That Carnage was ‘The Blade’, a weapon to be used.

Carnage could not be bound any more than Chaos could be controlled. Carnage was not Noble. War wasn’t noble. Technoblade wasn’t noble. He just… was. He was violence and destruction and attempting to control him would just make him turn and bite the hand that dared present a leash. (and then rip out the throat and-)

Tommy was too young to understand what he was. What any of them were. 

He would learn. Or be destroyed by warring with his own nature.

The betrayal in his eyes when he watched Philza drop destruction onto a country that had wronged his son, wronged his fascinating little mortals, had wronged his  _ friend _ would eventually solidify into knowledge. It wasn’t an attack on Tommy personally, it just had to happen. 

Philza. Dadza. Killza. Friendza.

Only one of those names was real.

Philza was Chaos. Chaos didn’t care for things like laws and governments. You could try to chain chaos and it would simply shrug off his ankle monitors and fly away to rest with Carnage. Chaos’ loyalty was a choice, not a thing bound to buildings or flags.

Philza wasn’t surprised at Tommy betraying them. Technoblade had been. He had forgotten who Tommy was. He was Chaos as well, but younger, less experienced, and not knowing what he was. The boy had fixated on him as someone to admire, strong and unable to be hurt. It wasn’t true. Technoblade felt. He was a person as much as he was Carnage. He had seen the fledgling Chaos yet to grow into himself and had seen Philza. Blond, chaotic beings blending together in his mind, egged on by Chat screaming for him to take Tommy in as a brother. He had been fond of the gremlin child, had hoped for another friend that Understood.

He was a fool.

The younger chaos could not understand yet. Still thought like a human. Loyalty was all well and good, but there should be at least some foundation for it. Technoblade trusted Philza because they understood each other, because they knew what the other was. Tommy had shown he trusted wrong, trusted beings he did not understand, beings that did not understand him. It was stupid.

Tommy thinks that Philza killing his own son was wrong, was unexpected.

Techno sometimes thinks that it only makes sense. Wilbur had been Storymaker once, Manipulation, if Techno was feeling petty about his friend’s child. Wilbur had tried to create something he could control, something to make himself great, to create a perfect story to be told and retold, and it had spiraled so far out of his control, lashing back at him and hurting him. So Wilbur had called on Carnage to help him mold his story back into a new shape, and Techno had answered and done what he did best, create carnage. 

Blood.

Death.

Blood. 

Destruction.

The Storymaker had learned that Chaos just is. He understood. He had molded his story, re-casted himself as the ‘villain’, had written Carnage into his story alongside betrayal and defeat mingled with victory and loyalty. He wrote he was for chaos and then had pled with Chaos himself to end him, to make his story complete. And Chaos had, because why not? Why shouldn’t he help the story maker finish his story? In the end, they all had to be what they were already.

Chaos just is, and while Philza may wish that his son had chosen a different story, he is too old to let grief end him. He plays with the shade of his once son that no longer understands, he kills mobs when the urge strikes him, he builds and destroys as he wishes, and when they try to control him, Chaos flies to Carnage.

They understand each other.

They laugh at the would be god who tries to become a being of Chaos, but still scrambles desperately for control. He does not understand.

Technoblade understands Philza. Philza understands Technoblade.

Philza is not surprised when Technoblade shows him the vault.

Technoblade is not surprised when Philza brings home another interesting mortal.

Chaos and Carnage simply are.

And when Chaos tells the shade of the Storymaker that one day he will understand, he does not mean that his reasons will be revealed, he means that one day the StoryMaker will return and Blue will be gone. One day Philza’s son will be back and he will understand.

For now, Carnage and Chaos plot in their cozy house in the snow, made beautiful by Chaos’ hands and whims while a strange child builds in their backyard. 

Technoblade is cautious of the new child, still hurting from a backstab he should have seen coming, but tolerates him for Philza’s sake. At first. As time goes, he finds himself seeing why the half enderman child caught Chaos’ eye. He sees the skulls lining the walls of the child’s home, sees the devotion dedicated to his armor and blades, sees the delight in the child’s eyes as he kicks a piglin child off of a ledge with a monotone, “death.”

They get along well. They fight together well, joke together well. Ranboo is careful around him, uncertain, but it seems to just be because the boy acknowledges that Carnage is destructive and is making sure to stay out of its path. Not controlling. Understanding. They go on adventures together, little outings to sate Technoblade’s need to fight and destroy and his desire to collect shiny, useful things. Ranboo enthusiastically accompanies him for seemingly the same reason. They both pretend they don’t know about the other’s hoards even as Ranboo uses his ability to collect magical mob spawners that no-one else can acquire, as they both divvy up and tuck death defying idols and artifacts into their pockets.

There is chaos inside the anxious boy. Or maybe Carnage. Or both. Ranboo does seem like a being that thrives on Balance, an ideal just as misunderstood as Chaos. Sure, the child says he’s tired of conflict, tired of choosing sides instead of people, but Technoblade thinks he understands that. He retired for a reason, after all. The child is learning, but still will ignore laws to help his people, will kill to protect, will burn down a mansion for no other reason than it is fun. The child hates governments clashing together for power, just as Philza and Technoblade do.

There is a strange child living in his backyard, and Technoblade can’t help but hope that one day, he will Understand them as Philza and Technoblade understand each other. 

And stop screaming ‘ranbrother’, Chat.


End file.
